


Contract

by Tat_Tat



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: F/M, Horror, Multi, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 04:32:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tat_Tat/pseuds/Tat_Tat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth's curiosity gets the best of her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Contract

Elizabeth brushes a stray hair behind Ciel’s ear and smiles, earnest and true. Even now, as he’s inside of her, sweat on his brow and breath warm with lust, he is so serious. Her hands creep up under the white ruffled shirt. It and the eyepatch are the only articles of clothing he refuses to take off. 

Curiosity touches her as she caresses his jaw. Her fingertips brush over the eyepatch. It’s soft and made of velvet. Ciel grabs her wrist and pushes it down by her head. He holds her there, staring at her. 

Like a good wife she drops her investigation. Still, she cannot help but look, but wonder.

She finds herself lying awake at night, thinking. For years Ciel denied her a look. Was it really so garish, his eye socket? Although a young lady like herself shouldn’t be prying into such grotesque things, it nagged her. In some way, she felt that Ciel didn’t trust her if he couldn’t let her see his marred eye. It was silly, she thought. Of course he trusted her, right? She had asked Sebastian, who only advised she give the young master time.

She felt she had given him plenty of time! Playmates since she could remember, fiances since they were born, and husband and wife for two years. And yet, Ciel kept his distance and his secrets.

In the middle of the night again, she lies awake and feels unimportant. Her husband provides for her, he gives her his affection, and if she’s lucky the semblance of a smile. But he does not trust her and it hurts more than anything.

Perhaps there is a reason he doesn’t trust her, she thinks as she lights a candle. She cannot feel her feet as they lead her to her husband’s room, connected to her own room by a corridor. Trepidation knocks her heart against her chest, but still. But still, she opens the door. Slow and steady she opens the door. It creaks high and sharp, and she flinches.

Her squeezed eyes open slowly, but the form on the bed, Ciel, is all bundled up and facing away. There is a light snore.

Elizabeth sighs noiselessly and creeps into the room. Her candle dances in the dark. Her shadow follows her footsteps. She sees many shadows watching hers. Jitters spark down her back and she hesitates now at the foot of the bed. 

She smiles. He’s so cute. She almost speaks and in alarm she raises her hand to her lips. 

Shhh, she warns herself.

The glow of the flame brings color to Ciel’s cheek. He looks as if he’s in a deep sleep, but he is curled up in the fetal position and fidgets, restless. His jaw is clenched, twitching.

Elizabeth frowns, “If only you would tell me what bothers you so, Ciel.”

Her eyes set on her husband’s closed eyes. For once he is without the eyepatch.

She knows she shouldn’t broach his trust, that she should practice patience. She also knows she is so close to the truth, whatever it is. Her hand hovers over his right eye. The candle shakes, her body trembles. 

The room feels darker the closer her hand is. At this point she wants to stop but there is a deadly pull of curiosity. Is she Pandora?

Pandora lifts her husband’s eyelid. Almost immediately she steps back, the image of the Faustian Contract- a star within a circle, vivid purple, shining brighter than her candle and at the same time, also shining dark - burns her.

“Wha- wha. . . “ Her voice quakes. She quickly takes refuge in silence and inches away from the bed, making her way back to her room, but not turning her back on Ciel. 

Before she reaches the door, Ciel’s voice stops her. It is a muddled, sleepy murmur but it startles her all the same:

“. . .Sebastian. . .”

At the sound of the butler’s name, the candle flickers.

She hears the grandfather clock downstairs chime twelve times. The room seems to ripple with each chime, the floor undulating underneath her. 

She can’t find her ability to move, but how she wants to! How she wishes she could forget the mark marring her spouse’s eye. Desperately, she wishes she was ignorant again. 

She doesn’t quite understand, but it all makes sense now. 

“Mrs. Phantomhive, the hour is long.” Sebastian seems to appear out of nowhere behind her.

She twirls to face the butler, and just before the glow of the candle settles on his face, the flame is extinguished.

“S. . .Se. . .Sebastian.” For the first time the name tastes overcast and indistinct: black.  
The butler is smiling, she knows somehow. 

“May I escort you to your chamber?” he helpfully offers.

She realizes why. He’s speaking without words; inside her head.

She swallows, then asks, “The mark. . . ?”

“Ah, you saw that, did you?” He phrases it as a question but the lilt in his voice is knowing, almost arrogant.

“Ciel is going to die, isn’t he?” Tears form in her eyes. Her heart feels hard and numb, like a bloated stone. 

“Don’t all humans die?” the butler says, his voice bland, void of emotion.

“But. . .” she says uselessly, eyes swollen. 

The butler chooses to answer her, if only for his own amusement. Ciel never said not to tell her if she figured it out herself; he likes loopholes. “As you surmised, I am a demon, my lady. That mark- it is proof of my contract with the master.”

Her long fingers clench tightly to the candle. She is shaking still, but from fear no longer, only sorrow. It is true: she’s afraid of the apparition in front of her, masquerading as a human, but there is something she is more afraid of.

“It can’t be reversed, can it?” she asks.

“No.” Sebastian answers. “Although. . . Perhaps, it could be overridden.” She senses his smile again. They both know she will say yes, not concerned with the consequences. 

“You want to protect the master, my lady. However, have you not considered that it would hurt him to see you in his stead?”

Elizabeth drops the candle and her hands ball up into fists. Determination, courage, and love flashes through her gaze. They are feelings Sebastian cannot understand, nor would he bothered to. He only finds amusement in her humanity. He licks his lips, ready for what will come next.

“I am the daughter of the leader of the British Knights, Marquis Alexis Leon Midford: Elizabeth Phantomhive. The Wife of the Queen's Watchdog. I will protect my husband no matter what the consequences.”

The room shifts again, growing darker until their shadows disappear. The room is cold. Her fingertips and toes suddenly numb with frostbite. Colder hands perch on her shoulder blades and Elizabeth gasps. 

Fogged breath falls down her neck. She clenches her eyes shut and accepts the darkness reaching into her recesses. It hurts worse than her wedding night. She swears there is blood pooling down her thighs. 

Sebastian whispers in her ear. They are not words, only intangible thoughts passed through her. In the blink of an eye she sees snippets of Ciel’s memory of the demon. She feels pain, and to her chagrin, the demon’s hunger. Acid rises in her throat. She manages to hold it back.

Her quim burns as the darkness thrusts deeper. She tries to push it out, to no avail. She has already promised her soul. It’s his for the taking. She feels his essence sear into her soul, a mark she suspects will look like the one on Ciel’s eye. She prays it’s no where obvious, somewhere she can hide it with ease. . .

Only when she has fully given up, hanging limp like a ragdoll, soul distant from her body, does the demon leave her. The dark softens to grays and warmth returns, as does the room. She finds herself still standing in the same spot as before, in front of the door. She is clothed, with no blood between her legs. The candle is at her feet. 

 

Distantly, she hears the clock strike one.


End file.
